


Curls Of Smoke

by Nopholom



Series: Fox Blood (Kumiho and Vampire) [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Monsters, Blood Drinking, Gore, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:25:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nopholom/pseuds/Nopholom
Summary: There had been no bar fight when he’d met Billy, only a stormy night and the sound of a baby crying in the distance.Halloween fic - here be monsters





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my favourite fic I've written and it's shameful.

It was a tiny scream, a baby in peril, mother dead or gone, animals likely descending on it with every moment that Goodnight hesitated; he heard the wail again and spurred his horse onwards. It was reluctant, whinnying and snorting, pawing at the ground and fighting against Goody the whole time, but he urged it on with a whip and squinted into the darkness, ears straining for direction above the rain.

He rode into a small dip in the terrain, a fantastic trap if he’d ever seen one, but natives didn’t use babies as bait, and animals weren’t smart enough; his horse refused to move now, chomping at the bit and foaming at the maw as its eyes rolled in fear, thunder shaking the earth beneath them. He knew if he dismounted now his horse would spook and run, but he wasn’t getting anywhere and the mare was starting to grate on his nerves; he did it anyway, rifle in one hand and trying to hold onto the reins with the other as the horse reared up and screamed over the baby’s cry. He lost his footing on the wet earth and slid onto his front in the dirt, curling in on himself as the horse stomped around him before charging off into the darkness, he was lucky the damned thing had missed him.

“Go on then you coward!” he roared after it as he stood, lining up to shoot the traitor but stopping when he realised the infant had fallen quiet, “Shit where are you little’n,” he whispered, lightning flashing and revealing his horse bolting back towards him in terror, he looked over just in time to see something compact slam into the side of the animal like a cannon ball, the horse screeching in terror as it crashed to the ground. “Christ!” he gasped, almost slipping again as he tried to run back out of the dip, he succeeded with some difficulty and ran to his horse intending to shoot whatever was on it.

It was writhing on the ground when he approached, whatever had attacked it was gone and it had a gaping hole just below its convulsing ribs, blood and guts drooling out of it, a series of torn tubes pumped out blood and bile as the horse gasped and screamed on the ground, choking in its panic as it sluggishly bled to death. Goody felt nausea sweep over him at the smell but raised his rifle and closed his eyes as he shot the animal dead, it wouldn’t survive that. He spun around after that, scanning the area around him for whatever had done this, it had seemed so _small_ , and to tear down a stocky mare with one lunge? That seemed impossible.

He heard the infant wail once more and aimed the direction it had come from, slowly walking away from his dead, mutilated horse, more alert than he’d ever been in the war. It was coming from the pit, and though something in him wanted to get the hell away from whatever had mauled his horse, he couldn’t bring himself to let it get a _child_ , so he descended into the pit, the crying echoing around him as he slid carefully down the slope.

“C’mon you son of a bitch,” he whispered, feeling eyes on him as he looked around, “Show yourself,” he said louder this time, “COME ON!” he yelled, voice hoarse, he felt spit fly and scanned around himself with his rifle raised.

The baby cried again and he heard it closer this time, turning and aiming where the sound originated, but there was no baby.

 

Instead there were two glowing yellow eyes watching him, lightning split the sky but he still couldn’t identify the animal beyond canine, inky black as it was; red and white pierced the darkness below the eyes as it opened its mouth and let out a child-like cry. Goody’s shoulders sagged as he was struck dumb, _that_ was the baby, a small black dog with the voice of a scared child.

It cried again and he could almost swear it was _grinning_ at him as it stood up and walked closer, he aimed at it with shaking wet hands, fingers slipping on the trigger before he let off a shot, a warning shot, he told himself as it missed, trying to take better aim as the animal moved from walk, to trot, to a lunge. He shot the animal square in the chest, dropping it to the ground but somehow not killing it,

“Christ…” he whispered, the animal, some kind of fox, ran at him again and leapt into the air, slamming him down onto his back and snapping at his throat. He managed to grab its muzzle, but _god_ it was strong, snapping and snarling within his fingers, each flash of teeth bringing it closer to Goody’s face, he roared as he tried to shove the animal away, baring his own teeth at it as he hissed and wrestled it to the ground, rolling on top of it and pinning it there. The animal thrashed and tried to bite at his hands and wrists, thin limbs scratching at his torso and a plethora of tails whipping around Goody’s legs, but now that Goody knew, to an extent, what he was dealing with, he found it much easier to overwhelm the animal. He managed to curl his fingers into its mouth as it snapped at him, fingers bleeding profusely as he started to draw his hands apart to try and tear the jaw loose, panic flashed in the animal’s suddenly black eyes.

Hands collided with his face, bloody claws digging into his flesh as the animal shifted like smoke beneath him and became a man; he felt the claws rake down his cheeks and neck and his own hands moved to throttle the oddly beautiful man beneath him. He grinned down at the man, rivers of blood mixing with the rain that coursed down his own skin and soaked into his clothes, this was _exhilarating_ , and something in the other man’s eyes said he felt it too.

“What _are_ you?” he whispered in awe, pushing his body against the man’s hands so he was close enough that their breath would mingle if he had any to give, he forced an inhale through his nose, the unusual smell of the man’s blood had his eyes rolling up in pleasure. The man let out an angry cry, initially like the fox’s shrill infant scream, but shifting into a booming snarl as it tapered off, shoving Goody away and to the side, jumping to his feet gracefully and shifting his body low and dangerous.

Goody moved to his feet slower but readied himself for some good old fisticuffs, he couldn’t supress a toothy smile, licking his teeth and lips as he looked the man up and down. He was soaked to the bone in rain and blood, some of which had wept from the hole Goody had shot through him, hands open and ready to slash black claws at Goody if he came close. The man was Asian, but not Chinese, Goody could tell, jet black hair long and plastered to his head, neck, and shoulders; his dark eyes flickered yellow whenever the sky flashed with lightning, and he snarled with a mouth full of jagged canid teeth. What struck Goody more than the man’s underlying human beauty was the energy that crept off of him like smoke from a doused fire, coiling into the air and giving him an inhuman shape around his petite yet muscular form, expressive wisps of shadow reminded him of fox ears, and behind him a looming shadow of pure energy whirled and coiled around itself like smoky snakes, but Goody could see as plain as day that they were nine writhing tails.

 

“What are you?” the man growled, those impressive tails whipping around him rhythmically and hypnotically, like a threat and a lure all at once,

“I asked first,” Goodnight grinned, dropping his defensive pose in favour of a presenting gesture that had water and blood arcing from his fingertips, he felt like they had reached an impasse here. The man said nothing, just growled and snarled at him, sharp teeth still bared, water still soaking the pair of them to the bone, “Come now are you really gonna be like that?” he asked, rubbing the thick gouges in his cheek where the man had cut him, the skin starting to merge together as he shook the blood off his fingers carelessly,

“Kumiho,” Goody barely caught the word, taking a moment to process it.

“Kumiho? That your name?” he asked, he couldn’t place the word and wondered,

“Billy,” the kumiho answered, Goody nodded at that and watched Billy relax, the canid aura around him fading; the rain had even started to abate now that it was done turning them into drowned rats.

“Goodnight Robicheaux, but you can call me Goody,” he held a hand out and Billy looked at it in disgust, “Not a fan of blood there cher?” he chuckled as he closed the gap between them, “See I’m quite the opposite,” he whispered, taking Billy’s hands in his and raising one to his lips, keeping his eyes on Billy’s and smirking at the flash of yellow there before his tongue darted out across Billy’s palm, tracing the watery blood up two fingers and pulling away as his tongue touched a black claw.

He marvelled the taste, even with the bitter taint of his own blood mixed in, it was like tasting heaven, and Billy’s dirty skin seemed to heighten it; Billy didn’t pull away from him, blood slick hands resting in Goody’s palms, reddening as the liquid spread where Goody had licked.

“Livers…” Billy muttered, “Hearts are better but the liver is easier to access,” he mumbled, and Goody couldn’t help himself, he’d survived worse than organ harvesting and he was remiss to pass up such an opportunity as this,

“Well then, Billy my dear, my heart is yours.”

 

\--

 

Billy hissed as Goody’s cock sank deep into him, keening and clawing at his pale back, tearing it to ribbons with unseen black claws, but Goody didn’t complain, he never did, taking his punishment and fucking Billy hard in response. He lay Billy down on his back and hunched over him, blood dripping down his sides and onto the bed beneath them, he held Billy’s face and kissed him, biting at his tongue and drawing blood, sucking hungrily as they kissed, loving the taste of Billy, a cross between human and something greater than human, unearthly and unique, a god walking among men.

“Billy,” he growled against his mouth, smearing blood as he spoke, “You’re perfect,” he hissed, their noses rubbing as he all but nuzzled Billy’s face, he shoved hard into him, the bed groaning and whining beneath their combined weight and actions, unaccustomed to the strength of two inhuman beings rutting.

“Shut up and fuck me Goody,” Billy moaned against his ear, eyes flashing yellow as Goody swept across that spot inside him, his claws spiking into Goody’s back, he could feel Goody’s skin knitting together around his fingertips.

They shifted together as one entity, a smoky exhale coiling around the bitter chill of night; they shared their pleasure and their pain as they fucked, Billy’s nails in Goody’s back, Goody baring his teeth at Billy’s throat, sinking sharp teeth into soft skin that gave like butter on a warm day, opening up for him and pouring Billy’s life out into his mouth. Billy moaned outright, had grown to enjoy this sharing of his very essence, quelling the instinctual fear the rend in his flesh provoked, dragging his fingers up Goody’s back, withdrawing his claws and feeling the skin meld together, knowing his throat was attempting the same thing around Goody’s teeth as he got his fill.

“Goody,” he hissed, wrapping his arms tight around Goody and grinding his hips into him, trying to take him deeper as Goody drank from him,

“God Billy,” Goody moaned, _panted_ , his humanity seeping in for the briefest of stints like it always did when he fed, he lost his words as they bubbled in the blood that welled in Billy’s wound, lapping up the excess and revealing pristine skin. He kissed up Billy’s neck with bloody lips, seeking out his mouth and kissing him hotly, sharing the coppery taste he marvelled over, hands coming up to Billy’s hair and easing through it as they kissed, slow in spite of the constant rocking of his hips, in spite of the way he was starting to lose composure and succumb to his rising orgasm. He hissed Billy’s name like blasphemy as he came, pumping into him and letting out broken sobs of ecstasy, Billy riding his high and relishing in the feel of being filled so deeply by someone he craved inside and out.

Goody kept fucking into him with wetter noises than before and Billy slid a hand between them to stroke his cock to Goody’s flagging pace, pressing their foreheads together as they fucked and just _feeling_ this, the high from the blood loss, the friction, the disgusting yet arousing feel of Goody pushing seed deeper inside his slick, shuddering hole. He came with a hitched breath and his teeth bared, euphoria and hunger washing over him as they untangled themselves sluggishly and Goody dropped onto his back, pinker than before and shining with sweat, chest heaving.

 

“This feels awful,” he gasped, laughing as he met Billy’s gaze, “I’m dying, Billy,” he lamented like he always did, the colour starting to drain from his skin already,

“Shut up,” Billy chuckled, moving onto his knees and straddling Goody’s lap, feeling seed trickle down his thigh, “Let’s hurry this up, shall we?” he hummed,

“My heart is yours,” Goody sighed, spreading his arms out to the side and presenting himself to his lover.

“Five years and you’re still using that line,” Billy rumbled as he ran his hands down Goody’s bare chest, claws slipping out and tracing over pale skin, catching on the scars that had caused Goody’s death over a century ago.

“What can I say? It still works,” Goody chuckled, licking his bloodied lips, the blood on his face was growing tacky though some had wept down his neck and was rapidly approaching their already soiled sheets. Billy caressed the dip in Goody’s torso below his sternum, tracing idle circles there as he went through the same conflicting feelings he always did when he was hungry, shame clung to his core like it belonged there, but Goody’s eyes shimmered blue at him in reassurance,

“I’m sorry…” Billy whispered, leaning in to kiss Goody,

“I know…” Goody smiled against his lips, Billy pulling back to watch as Goody’s face contorted in discomfort and pain, Billy’s claws sinking into soft flesh and pushing beneath the bone.

**Author's Note:**

> PS If you couldn't tell, a kumiho is the Korean equivalent of a Kitsune.


End file.
